I went into high school blind in some areas. There was a lot that my fourteen year old self thought I understood. The reality was I was not prepared for the four years ahead of me.
High school was a huge success in a few areas: I met a group of people I came to call my best friends, I built off of long suppressed interests, athletically, musically, and academically, I began to branch out socially and made friends all around school, across all grades, and for the first time I had some choice in the classes I was placed into, pursuing fields of study I was actually interested in. However, my priorities weren't always quite where they should have been.
Ninth grade was interesting. I was a freshman, and I had finally made it to high school. I'd always been a fairly competent student and I knew there were others with grades superior to mine, but I was to some degree proud of what I'd achieved in the past. While I told myself now was a time to work hard, looking back, my freshman year was spent searching for my clique. Sure, I had plenty of friends, but I didn't have a solid group. Freshman year I found that group. Academically I continued to do well, but not as well as I'd like, and some of the struggles I encountered in mathematics in my later years of middle school grew into bigger and bigger hurdles to overcome in the classroom. As I progressed through the year, I also came to realize how much of a problem my procrastination was at this level. Did that change anything? No, not really.
Above: 2015 New York Heritage Festival, North Haven High School Jazz 1 Ensemble "Sax Squad"
I kick myself for it now, but at that point in high school, I had very little insight into the college application process. What were colleges looking for? Good grades. What did that mean? What was a GPA? Exactly how much of my future would my work the next four years determine? If I'd known, I'd like to think I'd have done much differently. While I'm upset about it now, who am I really to blame? No, guidance counselors back then didn't really tell us much. Teachers stressed the importance of academic excellence as they always had. I suppose if I'd really cared as much as I tell myself I do now, I'd have researched the process, and really gotten serious about my studies. That didn't really happen.
Sophomore year came around and I was still not a fan of math. However, going into geometry with the teacher who would later become my favorite math teacher, Mrs. Opramolla, I found geometry came to me much more easily than algebra, and that was less of an issue. The real issues arose that year when my continued procrastination habits met with two of the most demanding high school educators I've ever encountered, Daniel O'Brien and Bevan Moore.
The duo ran the humanities history and English classes offered as alternatives to English 10, and our required social studies class, Global Issues. Mr. Moore, a Yale grad, is one of the most harsh graders I've ever met. I was introduced into the world of proper MLA citations, and any slip up while citing work would result in an automatic zero, which I thought was pretty harsh at the time. Mr. O'Brien headed the English class, introducing us fifteen and sixteen year-olds to literary classics and epic poems such as Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and many more. The two, despite the challenges they presented, became two of my favorite teachers, though Mr. O'Brien definitely had to take the cake for my overall favorite. While both Humanities English and Humanities History were the undisputed more difficult options, the interest I had in them far overpowered my desire for good grades. As much as I enjoyed all that I learned there, I almost regret taking the classes, and I hate myself for it. But that's just the pressure put on 21st century students to succeed academically I suppose.
To my understanding, and truly, this was probably complete foolishness on my part, I hadn't been as concerned with freshman and sophomore year than I was with my junior year. I had been told by several older friends of mine that junior year was really all colleges looked at; that junior year was by far the most important year. Wrong, wrong wrong.
I went in with only two AP classes; English Language and Composition and U.S History. When the history teacher, a wonderful woman by the name of Mrs. O'Keefe, made it clear that she would collect any assignment from a given term for full credit at any time that term, I knew I was both blessed and cursed. Yes, I had ample time to worry about other assignments before history, but the history workload was very, very heavy. I was very quickly overwhelmed by the stack of work before me, and much to my shame, I dropped. Junior year, post U.S History drop, was a frenzied panic about the SAT's fast approaching. I had struggled in the past, especially with my habit of procrastination, to balance my school work, what I called a healthy social life, my work on the track, and then just beginning alongside my saxophone playing, my work in the choir room. I joined our school's men's a capella group which had ceased to exist for several years, but when several seniors decided they wanted to start it up again, I knew this was my golden opportunity to jump back into the choral world. In the two images below, my group, the North Haven High School "Men of Note", managed to in our first year back as a club achieve a gold rating at the 2014 Montreal Heritage Music Festival as part of our music department's annual trip. The gold rating was the highest possible rating we could have achieved on a internationally recognized scale, adjudicated by well known music professors from around Canada and the United States. However, we didn't have any groups to compete against in Montreal. In our second year, my senior year, we managed to repeat the feat, not only earning a gold rating once more, but we beat out two other men's groups to take first place in the 2015 New York Heritage Music Festival. By stepping out of my comfort zone and reaching out through this extracurricular group and others like it, I got a lot closer with people I'd hardly known over the years, and many new friendships blossomed.
Amidst all the music induced joy, I began my college search, and I came to the realization that my efforts over the past several years were just as large a part of my college application as my junior and senior years were. I screwed up. Yeah, I did well, but I believe firmly in my heart I could have done much much better. My effort waxed and waned when it benefited me most, and I deeply regret it. It was during this time that I noticed the most contrast between my own efforts and the efforts of those I'd long considered my peers as I began to witness them pulling ahead of me. It wasn't until now I'd even considered exactly what it took to get into a college...that had all seemed so far away. Now, my undergraduate years coming up fast, I saw what that extra effort meant. I had several close friends with stronger academics than my own with, despite their academic prowess, very different habits in the classroom. One, was a chronic procrastinator, much like myself, but one who managed to fix and finish things well even at the last minute. The other, our future class salutatorian, didn't exactly offer help but constantly chastised me for my poor study habits. Once our GPA's, that three digit decimal, always just floating there at the bottom of my report card, became relevant, I realized the state I was in. It was then that I tried my best to make some self corrective changes.
Left picture: Me with fellow senior and good friend Hunter, accepting our award 2015 Right: 2014 celebratory picture with the boys
Senior year was in many ways the best year of my high school experience, and in several ways the worst. I've heard people say that college is the best time of your life and the friends you'll make during that time will come to be your best friends...while I'm sure there are amazing experiences ahead of me, the 2014-2015 school year was one of the best years of my life for several reasons: I'd reached out of my comfort zone and met so many amazing people over the past few years, these friendships I'd built really bloomed into something incredible in this last year we all had together. I entered my first chorus class since elementary school; our school's select chamber choir and co-ed a capella group. I made so many incredible friends here and the wonderful music we made together made me seriously consider pursuing a future in the field of music. But lastly and most importantly, I fought to redeem myself; the mistakes I'd made in the classroom the past few years were still there but I did my best fighting to tip the scale back my way.
I had an elective with Mr. O'Brien after a year without. Something I did intentionally of course. This incredible man was always there for each and every student, whether that be at the apex of their academic achievement or when they made a mistake and tripped up. He was there to both catch us as well fell and to offer us his reserved praise when we triumphed, and the passion with which he took over the classroom and encouraged each of us to "WANT TO KNOW", as was pinned to the back wall of his classroom, is something that has left a lasting impression on me and something I shall surely carry with me for a lifetime. "WANT TO KNOW" may have very well translated to what we've described as deep learning. O'Brien, as most of us called him, was not your standard cardboard cutout educator. Wanting to know meant delving into a text and through research as well as inference and by questioning all that was laid out in front of us, reaching a point of deeper understanding by asking why something was the way it was. The passion I mentioned translated into every aspect of the classroom, and the vigor he displayed was truly a boost to my spirits as I sought to change as much as I could about my own work ethic and handling of schoolwork.
At the same time, I was denied admission to my number one school, McGill University, and I had a bit of an existential crisis on my hands as I tried to discover just what it was that I wanted to do. I applied to almost ten schools for computer science, McGill included. These were engineering schools, tech schools, IT schools, and then I realized that I could not live my life in that field. It was not for me. At that point, I was lost, looking for a place to go, and smack dab in the middle of the college application process. This was a point of serious stress for me. At the same time, my hopes of college track and field began to fade. I'd been looking at a highly competitive Division III school with strong academics, WPI. I'd have gotten in, and perhaps with some grant money I'd bet, not to be cocky, but that dream died with the realization that a desk job wasn't for me. I couldn't be there and be happy. Sure I might have been able to go D1, and I talked to a few coaches, but an injury just before my indoor season hampered my training efforts, followed by a weak outdoor season, and my confidence fell.
There were many shortcomings in my academic behavior in high school and there are many poor decisions I made in regard to school work which I regret. However, I'm trying to resolve not to look back. It can't be changed now, can it? All I can do is recognize those shortcomings, take what I've learned from high school, and move forward into college with my chin up, prepared to turn a new leaf.
High school was a huge success in a few areas: I met a group of people I came to call my best friends, I built off of long suppressed interests, athletically, musically, and academically, I began to branch out socially and made friends all around school, across all grades, and for the first time I had some choice in the classes I was placed into, pursuing fields of study I was actually interested in. However, my priorities weren't always quite where they should have been.
Ninth grade was interesting. I was a freshman, and I had finally made it to high school. I'd always been a fairly competent student and I knew there were others with grades superior to mine, but I was to some degree proud of what I'd achieved in the past. While I told myself now was a time to work hard, looking back, my freshman year was spent searching for my clique. Sure, I had plenty of friends, but I didn't have a solid group. Freshman year I found that group. Academically I continued to do well, but not as well as I'd like, and some of the struggles I encountered in mathematics in my later years of middle school grew into bigger and bigger hurdles to overcome in the classroom. As I progressed through the year, I also came to realize how much of a problem my procrastination was at this level. Did that change anything? No, not really.
Above: 2015 New York Heritage Festival, North Haven High School Jazz 1 Ensemble "Sax Squad"
I kick myself for it now, but at that point in high school, I had very little insight into the college application process. What were colleges looking for? Good grades. What did that mean? What was a GPA? Exactly how much of my future would my work the next four years determine? If I'd known, I'd like to think I'd have done much differently. While I'm upset about it now, who am I really to blame? No, guidance counselors back then didn't really tell us much. Teachers stressed the importance of academic excellence as they always had. I suppose if I'd really cared as much as I tell myself I do now, I'd have researched the process, and really gotten serious about my studies. That didn't really happen.
Sophomore year came around and I was still not a fan of math. However, going into geometry with the teacher who would later become my favorite math teacher, Mrs. Opramolla, I found geometry came to me much more easily than algebra, and that was less of an issue. The real issues arose that year when my continued procrastination habits met with two of the most demanding high school educators I've ever encountered, Daniel O'Brien and Bevan Moore.
The duo ran the humanities history and English classes offered as alternatives to English 10, and our required social studies class, Global Issues. Mr. Moore, a Yale grad, is one of the most harsh graders I've ever met. I was introduced into the world of proper MLA citations, and any slip up while citing work would result in an automatic zero, which I thought was pretty harsh at the time. Mr. O'Brien headed the English class, introducing us fifteen and sixteen year-olds to literary classics and epic poems such as Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and many more. The two, despite the challenges they presented, became two of my favorite teachers, though Mr. O'Brien definitely had to take the cake for my overall favorite. While both Humanities English and Humanities History were the undisputed more difficult options, the interest I had in them far overpowered my desire for good grades. As much as I enjoyed all that I learned there, I almost regret taking the classes, and I hate myself for it. But that's just the pressure put on 21st century students to succeed academically I suppose.
To my understanding, and truly, this was probably complete foolishness on my part, I hadn't been as concerned with freshman and sophomore year than I was with my junior year. I had been told by several older friends of mine that junior year was really all colleges looked at; that junior year was by far the most important year. Wrong, wrong wrong.
I went in with only two AP classes; English Language and Composition and U.S History. When the history teacher, a wonderful woman by the name of Mrs. O'Keefe, made it clear that she would collect any assignment from a given term for full credit at any time that term, I knew I was both blessed and cursed. Yes, I had ample time to worry about other assignments before history, but the history workload was very, very heavy. I was very quickly overwhelmed by the stack of work before me, and much to my shame, I dropped. Junior year, post U.S History drop, was a frenzied panic about the SAT's fast approaching. I had struggled in the past, especially with my habit of procrastination, to balance my school work, what I called a healthy social life, my work on the track, and then just beginning alongside my saxophone playing, my work in the choir room. I joined our school's men's a capella group which had ceased to exist for several years, but when several seniors decided they wanted to start it up again, I knew this was my golden opportunity to jump back into the choral world. In the two images below, my group, the North Haven High School "Men of Note", managed to in our first year back as a club achieve a gold rating at the 2014 Montreal Heritage Music Festival as part of our music department's annual trip. The gold rating was the highest possible rating we could have achieved on a internationally recognized scale, adjudicated by well known music professors from around Canada and the United States. However, we didn't have any groups to compete against in Montreal. In our second year, my senior year, we managed to repeat the feat, not only earning a gold rating once more, but we beat out two other men's groups to take first place in the 2015 New York Heritage Music Festival. By stepping out of my comfort zone and reaching out through this extracurricular group and others like it, I got a lot closer with people I'd hardly known over the years, and many new friendships blossomed.
Amidst all the music induced joy, I began my college search, and I came to the realization that my efforts over the past several years were just as large a part of my college application as my junior and senior years were. I screwed up. Yeah, I did well, but I believe firmly in my heart I could have done much much better. My effort waxed and waned when it benefited me most, and I deeply regret it. It was during this time that I noticed the most contrast between my own efforts and the efforts of those I'd long considered my peers as I began to witness them pulling ahead of me. It wasn't until now I'd even considered exactly what it took to get into a college...that had all seemed so far away. Now, my undergraduate years coming up fast, I saw what that extra effort meant. I had several close friends with stronger academics than my own with, despite their academic prowess, very different habits in the classroom. One, was a chronic procrastinator, much like myself, but one who managed to fix and finish things well even at the last minute. The other, our future class salutatorian, didn't exactly offer help but constantly chastised me for my poor study habits. Once our GPA's, that three digit decimal, always just floating there at the bottom of my report card, became relevant, I realized the state I was in. It was then that I tried my best to make some self corrective changes.
Left picture: Me with fellow senior and good friend Hunter, accepting our award 2015 Right: 2014 celebratory picture with the boys
Senior year was in many ways the best year of my high school experience, and in several ways the worst. I've heard people say that college is the best time of your life and the friends you'll make during that time will come to be your best friends...while I'm sure there are amazing experiences ahead of me, the 2014-2015 school year was one of the best years of my life for several reasons: I'd reached out of my comfort zone and met so many amazing people over the past few years, these friendships I'd built really bloomed into something incredible in this last year we all had together. I entered my first chorus class since elementary school; our school's select chamber choir and co-ed a capella group. I made so many incredible friends here and the wonderful music we made together made me seriously consider pursuing a future in the field of music. But lastly and most importantly, I fought to redeem myself; the mistakes I'd made in the classroom the past few years were still there but I did my best fighting to tip the scale back my way.
I had an elective with Mr. O'Brien after a year without. Something I did intentionally of course. This incredible man was always there for each and every student, whether that be at the apex of their academic achievement or when they made a mistake and tripped up. He was there to both catch us as well fell and to offer us his reserved praise when we triumphed, and the passion with which he took over the classroom and encouraged each of us to "WANT TO KNOW", as was pinned to the back wall of his classroom, is something that has left a lasting impression on me and something I shall surely carry with me for a lifetime. "WANT TO KNOW" may have very well translated to what we've described as deep learning. O'Brien, as most of us called him, was not your standard cardboard cutout educator. Wanting to know meant delving into a text and through research as well as inference and by questioning all that was laid out in front of us, reaching a point of deeper understanding by asking why something was the way it was. The passion I mentioned translated into every aspect of the classroom, and the vigor he displayed was truly a boost to my spirits as I sought to change as much as I could about my own work ethic and handling of schoolwork.
At the same time, I was denied admission to my number one school, McGill University, and I had a bit of an existential crisis on my hands as I tried to discover just what it was that I wanted to do. I applied to almost ten schools for computer science, McGill included. These were engineering schools, tech schools, IT schools, and then I realized that I could not live my life in that field. It was not for me. At that point, I was lost, looking for a place to go, and smack dab in the middle of the college application process. This was a point of serious stress for me. At the same time, my hopes of college track and field began to fade. I'd been looking at a highly competitive Division III school with strong academics, WPI. I'd have gotten in, and perhaps with some grant money I'd bet, not to be cocky, but that dream died with the realization that a desk job wasn't for me. I couldn't be there and be happy. Sure I might have been able to go D1, and I talked to a few coaches, but an injury just before my indoor season hampered my training efforts, followed by a weak outdoor season, and my confidence fell.
There were many shortcomings in my academic behavior in high school and there are many poor decisions I made in regard to school work which I regret. However, I'm trying to resolve not to look back. It can't be changed now, can it? All I can do is recognize those shortcomings, take what I've learned from high school, and move forward into college with my chin up, prepared to turn a new leaf.